The sun was beginning to set behind the grayish-blue, Sierra Mountains. The murmurs of the afternoon voices continued to echo in her ears.

It had been an eventful afternoon, but January was exhausted. She had waited twelve years for this day and now it had finally come and gone, as if in a blink.

“Congratulations Young Lady.” Her grandpa extended out his shaky hand, suffering from chronic arthritis for most of his adult life, but obviously proud of his only grandchild.

“Thank you, Grandpa. I’m so happy you and Grandma were able to make it.”

“We wouldn’t have missed your graduation from high school…not in a million years.”

January smiled, politely dismissing herself.

She was distracted. She hadn’t seen Jack since the ceremony ended, almost thirty minutes earlier.

As she wondered out to the parking lot, she heard a car’s brakes screeching. She held her breath, waiting in anticipation for the final part, the sound of metal as it crashed into another car, or the thud the car made as it hit something or someone. She waited with batted breath, but nothing.

She relaxed, letting her breath out. Suddenly out of nowhere she heard footsteps coming up behind her.

Startled, she turned around, ready to scream out…”Jack! what they hell! You scared me to death. Where have you been…”

She didn’t finish her sentence, as he pulled her roughly into him, passionately kissing her with all the desire and wanting he had building up inside of him.

“I love you baby…that’s all I wanted to tell you.” Quickly extending his arm forward, revealing the most gorgeous dozen red roses she had ever seen.

“Oh, Jack! They’re beautiful and so are you. I love you too…more than words!”

“You can prove it to me tonight. Now go home and get pretty for me. I’ll see you tonight at eight.”

January watched with a smile upon her lips, as he ran down the street, jumping back into his white 1967 Camaro, that he had left idling in the middle of the street, and took off in a hurry down Main Street.

Depression is not a choice. When people ask what it feels like, I don’t even have to think.

It’s like you’re underwater drowning. You forget how to swim. You used to know how, but not anymore. You’re incapable of swimming, so you sink to the bottom of the pool.

Nobody knows you’re drowning. They just think you’re underwater. Casually swimming and you try to call for help, but nobody can hear you. Even if they could, you’ll be shamed.

Your voice is gone. Your mind is all dark. No more everyday happy thoughts and people should not just say, “I’m depressed.” when they’re feeling down because depression is feeling down everyday for months and years.

You’re in this sad box that is locked. You can’t escape. It’s become a part of you…you’re friend, that you don’t want. They will yell at you, scream at the top of their lungs. And you can try to get them to leave you alone, but they’re not going anywhere.

People will say it’s a phase and you wish it was, but it isn’t. You can’t just snap your fingers and be depression free. It takes a long time to recover.

Depression is not cute. It is not something you want. It is not a trend. It is an illness and a bad one too. Having depression is not a sad thought every once in a while, it is not cutting yourself and showing everybody.

Really, it’s about not being able to get out of bed to shower, eat, start your day. It’s staying up until two in the morning thinking about things because you believe you’re a failure and that’s what it will get you to think.

You will begin to know to yourself that you’re useless, and that nobody will want you.

Sad, huh? It’s in your head. Depression is a bad illness and when people compare people who have depression, that’s even worse. Like you can’t become depressed because your parents got a divorce, because somebody else’s parents were killed.

You can’t put a price on sadness and you’ll think, “Oh, God, please someone save me, anyone”, but the only person who could save you is yourself.

It will take a while too.

Do something you love, people will say. They clearly don’t understand that anything you do will not make you happy. You are sick…It isn’t a two-day thing, but I will not be shamed for my depression.

I will always have it in the back of my head, and even though it may make me want to give up, I will not. I will not give up when I have made it this far.

Don’t blame people who are trying hard to make it through their day. So in the end, you have to remember: Depression is not a choice.

The first snow of the year. The air was crisp with the hint of winter, causing her breath to catch in her throat, but yet so pure, allowing her thoughts to drift into promises she had told yourself, but had not kept.

January wrapped her leather coat tightly around her. Although she was cold, she had the softest warmth radiating around her. She was at peace. She knew she had done the right thing.

She knew she had hurt Jack…Christ, it had hurt her too, but she knew he deserved to know the truth. The truth was freeing because it allowed her the freedom to be honest with not only herself, but with him.

However, she was still haunted by his eyes, the disturbing contour of his face as she had told him.

Her only concern was where to go from here.

He had always been strong, but she was worried for him because she knew that he would have a hard time. After all, he was an addict and addicts weren’t good with dealing with change.

She knew they would have to change everything about their life. She would be in and out of hospitals for the next couple of months. This would put a definite toll on their marriage.

But she was confident in the strength of their relationship, after all, they had over come his addiction…

Jumping, January turned, startled by the sound of the opening of the front door.

“Jack…”

“Sweetheart…I am so sorry I left you…I’m home now and I will never leave you again.” Jack pulled her into his chest, tightly holding her, gently smoothing back her hair from her face as his tears fell.

Lisa grabbed the beer, placing it to her lips, swallowing the bitter liquid. She had to concentrate, not to think about the distaste she had for the beer. She sat down, letting out the loudest burp ever to escape her lips.

“There! I did it.” She was really proud of her accomplishment. Keith and Ricky seemed proud too, handing her another Miller Genuine Draft.

“Ricky, let me have a drag of your cigarette.” Lisa took a hit. He had that inquisitive look again.

“What?” She asked.

“I didn’t know you smoked.” He said taking a long drag.

“I don’t. But, I just feel like being one of the boys tonight.” She sat back to relax.

“Lisa, you are too cool.” Keith was stunned.

Ricky tried to teach Lisa how to blow rings with the cigarette smoke. She tried and tried, laughing out loud with the pure lucidity of the evening.

“Shhhh… Don’t laugh so loud.”

“Sorry, Keith.” Lisa looked over at Ricky raising her eyebrows.

He rolled his eye, twirling his finger around in a circle next to his head. Lisa couldn’t help but burst out laughing again. She was feeling a little drunk.

“Shhhh….” This only made her laugh harder until she could hardly breathe, breaking into an asthma attack.

“Shhh… Quiet! I don’t want the neighbors to call the cops.” Keith was definitely paranoid.

“Shut up Keith! I can’t help it if I have to cough….. I have asthma.” She started coughing uncontrollably again.

“Shhhh…”

“Keith, leave her alone. She can’t help it if she has to cough.” Ricky defended her.

“I don’t want the cops to be called. If you guys don’t be quiet, then leave.” Keith was bugging her.

“Don’t be so paranoid, Keith.” Lisa lay back against the couch feeling the room spin under her.

“Lisa, are you ok?” Ricky took hold of her arm walking her over to the small, unsanitary bathroom in the back of the disarray bedroom. Lisa didn’t care that the toilet smelled of urine, sitting down on the floor, resting her head on the cool toilet seat. The coolness felt good on her clammy forehead.